Thursday, December 07, 2023

It’s Pearl Harbor Day.

My new primary care doctor, whom I hoped would turn out to be older, very experienced, and wise, actually was someone young and fun, who could process information super-rapidly while talking either casually or professionally. As we chatted she busily tapped on a computer, reviewing years of my lab reports and pinpointing accurately my medical history’s most relevant bits.

She found me having a couple of new issues, a slight heart murmur, and a pre-diabetic condition. She ordered tests to explore them; didn’t consider either particularly worrisome now but encouraged baselining and watching them.

Well-O, well-O, well-Oh; heart and diabetes…who knew? It surely didn’t help that I had to spend two years before locating a primary care doctor available in Central Oregon. At least, now I am informed and have professional help going forward.

On arriving home, my phone rang offering an opportunity to work, and I accepted. On arriving, instead of supporting Ready-To-Wear, where I usually work, I went to the Home and Men’s Wear sections. Their stocks and routines were too new, made fly from my brain much I have learned about assisting customers and checking out merchandise. Long story short, a more experienced salesperson soon arrived; I returned to RTW and worked comfortably.

Dear Friends: A big day highlighting both my working- and living-styles. Diana

Thursday, December 06, 2023

There goes Chase, my varmint puppy and escape artist pièce de résistance. He wears me out by constantly climbing, digging, and exploring. He discovers escape opportunities from the large fenced dog area.

I’m committed to keeping this challenging puppy because few others would tolerate his energy. Someday, if I’m lucky, he’ll become calmer and less worrisome. If I’m not lucky, what the heck. It’s too late to say, “Chase, bye-bye.” Actually, he also has saving graces, a wonderful temperament with devotion for his person.

This morning I have a first appointment with my new primary care doctor. A couple of years ago, my long-time PCD retired and I began searching for another. This city’s exploding population gobbling up its doctors prevented my finding anyone qualified with an opening for a new patient. Recently, relief came; I fell into luck and found an available PCD.

Here’s a capture of my very winterized, wooly pony, Sunni. She seems disinterested in me and my camera, but has a busy eyeball!

Following my appointment this morning, and if the warm weather holds, it’s a fine day to saddle Sunni and go for a ride.

Dear Friends: Have a wonderful day! Diana

Tuesday, December 05, 2023

The header photo is of a vintage Star of David that’s on its way to me. I don’t know about this Star’s history, but I had searched for one that’s been worn. This one is beautiful, has a flavor of years past, appears somewhat worn and it suits me.

Two brutal wars are occurring now in different parts of the world. One involves Ukraine and the other Israel. Those battles worry the entire world for demonstrating the use of modern artillery and teaching its nearly unlimited possibilities.

I feel distantly connected to both wars. My maternal Jewish grandparents immigrated to the U.S. from Odessa back when the city was Russian. My paternal Jewish grand-family immigrated to the U.S. from Poland to escape Nazism. Individuals on both sides of my family immigrated to Israel in the late 1940s when the independent Jewish State was formed.

I consider myself a Jew, but I am not religious. I enjoy the pomp and circumstance of all kinds of religious holidays as long as brutalities aren’t involved. The Ukraine-Russian war, on its surface, isn’t about religious freedom, but about territorial conquest. However, the Israel-Palestine conflict deeply involves religious and territorial divides.

I take a side in the Ukraine-Russia conflict, hoping Ukraine wins, period. I can’t as easily choose a side in the complex Middle-East war. I’m sympathetic to both sides and hope for a path toward a resolution, peaceful, and even perhaps lasting.

I will start wearing my vintage Star of David. It’s to represent my cultural and, by definition, religious heritage. A Star suggests favor for a particular side and also my intellectual involvement and sympathy toward eternally recurring human chaos.

Dear Friends: Hopefully, the Star will suggest wishes for peace. Diana

Monday, December 04, 2023

Yesterday, I stumbled across this 2016 photo of Kinny, at seven-years-old, a German Shepherd, and my sister Elaine’s dog. Both had come to live with me in Central Oregon. Discovering this image simply blew me away. It could have been a throwaway back then, depending on what I was looking for. Well, some mistakes are correctible, and this is one. It will become a print and framed for hanging on my special portrait wall.

This discovery especially was cool and meaningful for occurring near the fourth anniversary of my elder sister’s passing. In my heart, these individuals intertwine. Each was unique and unforgettable.

I’ve written about my sister and her dog and won’t again, right now. However, my joy in finding this image encourages me to comb carefully through all my past images. Surely, others exist that have captured some very special moods and moments.

Dear Friends: Great photos blast powerfully into desire and memory. Diana

Sunday, December 03, 2023

This bold Robin, perched to drink from my chickens’ water bucket, is among the Robins that hang around this area through wintertime. It’s a gift that small water sources attract wild birds. When like this Robin, a bird pauses nearby, I enjoy watching its behavior. Similar to the popular idea that cat-petting lowers a human’s blood pressure, maybe the pleasant bird-watching lowers mine.

Today I am up early, drinking coffee, watching the weather, and planning my day. Our weather will be warmish and with heavy rain anticipated. I must go outside and work to improve my dog fencing. My young and very OCD dog has learned to dig under the fence and escape the yard, he’s unstoppable. I must do heavy work to discourage him. If the rain holds off, I can be out gathering lava rocks to align at the fence bottom inside and out.

This morning, I hope at least to stack big rocks near where they’ll ultimately be placed. Completing all the work might take a couple of days. Until the culprit’s digging stops, daily he will be housed in a standalone (and so far) inescapable kennel.

Dear Friends: A last java blast before I head outside isn’t lowering my blood pressure. Diana

Saturday, December 02, 2023

I’m starting to find the kind of fun at Macy’s that I have enjoyed in other jobs. Yesterday, I checked out a woman, an American, who mentioned having lived in England for many years. I wondered why, and she described studying British literature in college and, afterward, choosing to go where her favorite authors had lived, wanting more insight into their backgrounds and evolvement. In that process, she became enamored with England, found a job, and stayed.

Her interests were up my alley, for long ago, I spent years informally studying writings by Jane Austin, the Bronte siblings, and others. My focus was on early 19th-century British women writers, particularly Charlotte Bronte. I then lived in LA, and its large libraries made what I was studying available. Unintentionally, I became an armchair expert on certain British (and American) writers of that earlier era.

For that customer and me, the past snapped forward. We exchanged brief observations about the emergence of women writers against social backgrounds without any interest whatsoever in feminine intelligence and observations. We spoke of admiring early British women writers, talented, having to struggle mightily for recognition and economic viability.

To me, Charlotte Bronte was the epitome of that period drama. She was the eldest of four Bronte siblings who grew up in the most dire poverty. All were creative and talented, and Charlotte was the boldest. She first published under a male pseudonym, until finally encouraged to publish using her own name. A wonderful storyteller, she was bright, insightful, and warm; I loved her works.

So long ago all that learning, and yesterday, the delightful exchange. Remembering renewed my passion for the works of early significant women writers; and appreciating how, finally, they managed to prove their intellectual- and skill-worthiness and start gaining economically.

Dear Friends: Being out and among taps into social and mental relevance. Diana

Friday, December 01, 2023

Starting today, I’ll be an ex-trainee at Macy’s. Instead of mostly shadowing its more experienced employees, I might be assigned to work more independently and in various locations. Until now, I’ve worked in the ready-to-wear section with sweaters, sleepwear, and lingerie. I want to experience working in a variety of the store’s departments.

This morning’s high winds and blowing snow encourage me to wear my plastic blue bubble coat. The outside conditions also remind me to have in my car a windshield scraper. That critical item wasn’t available late yesterday when I left Macy’s. My frosted-over front and back windows offered very limited vision. Instead of waiting until the window ice melted, I crept my car to a nearby gas station, where a kind attendant scraped my windows.

Winter weather impacts everything. We carry certain supplies in our vehicles and are prepared, if needed, to call for assistance. We alter routines with our pets depending on the weather.

I pause here, having just received notice of Sandra Day O’Connor’s death. She’s the third passing in as many days of highly visible Americans. O’Connor, following Carter and Kissinger, was ninety-three. Carter and Kissinger had tiptoed to one hundred years old. O’Connor had memory loss, probably Alzheimer’s. Both Carter and Kissinger remained actively involved in their pursuits until their deaths. All are signals of our aging population.

Dear Friends: Springing now are many associated topics for discussing. Diana

Thursday, November 30, 2023

Every sign signals that Oregon is on the verge of receiving days of huge snowfalls. The first snow here in Central Oregon will fall tomorrow, and most of it, or an estimated 10 inches, will land high atop the Cascades, and our ski resort will open for biz. Tomorrow, we below the mountains will see lighter snow, but that’ll change in the following days as more snow falls and lands lower.

We can plan for a very cold year ending. Especially folks with large animals to care for and feed while keeping warm. To this end, I became interested in a Macy’s coat; it’s full size and made bigger by being a puffer that appears capable of keeping a wearer warm. What particularly was attractive to me is that the coat’s filling isn’t of feathers, but of recycled plastics.

I’ve been thinking about staying warm in the coming snow while outside and feeding horses. Examining that puffer coat, I couldn’t think of why plastic insulation wouldn’t be as warm or maybe more so than alternate fillings. Besides, I heartedly dislike pulling feathers from live birds, even if they provide effective insulation. Besides, too, Macy’s continuing big sales and my employee discount made the puffer gettable.

Yesterday evening, I wore home a new plastic, blue-colored, big, puffer coat. It’s lightweight and was warm in the evening’s cold. It’s interesting, that as I am wearing the coat and walking it makes noises–of a kind that suggests the crinklings of plastic.

Just now, instead of tomorrow, the snowing has begun. Contrary to predictions, it’s landing here solidly on the ground and way beneath the Cascades.

Dear Friends: Today will test my decision accuracy and the new coat’s promise. Diana

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

My neighbor, John, told me yesterday that his nephew and surrogate son, Richard, was recently diagnosed with noncurable late-stage terminal cancer. Everybody, including Richard himself, was caught off guard. John’s obvious distress and mine moved me to tears. Richard is only 53 years old and one of the nicest people. Until recently, he frequently was in our neighborhood. Lately, without dwelling on it, I’d not seen his big white truck rolling into or leaving John’s place.

Last year, Richard told me that he successfully overcame alcoholism in his twenties and thirties. I hadn’t known until yesterday that he was a lifelong smoker. John says that Richard still smokes routinely and adds that it no longer matters.

A few years ago, John lost his older brother to invasive and aggressive cancer. He moved that brother from Canada to Central Oregon to support him through the final months. Now, another one he’s close to is similarly going.

I’m peripherally involved, for often being across the street at John’s where I take my horses to graze on his pasture. Being there introduced me to John’s brother, Steven, and his nephew, Richard. Both these losses impact me, especially Richard whom I know well.

I’m finding that the loss of anyone beloved reminds me of my loss several years ago. My sister, Elaine was a handful in life. Only during her final years did I understand how close we were and how greatly I loved her. I’d be a better sister if more understanding could make it possible to back up and re-do the past. And similarly regarding my mom, I’d be a better daughter.

Loss is a hard teacher.

Macy’s has offered me extra working hours today and tomorrow. That’ll take my mind away from difficult topics. I will continue following Richard’s progress through John.

Dear Friends: The luck of the draw: our genes, parents, habits, and attitudes. Diana

Tuesday, November 28, 2023

He dug out again yesterday. This time, little Mitzvah followed the rotten Chase. They went through a new hole under the fence. I was inside the house when my other dogs started barking with the energy that attracts attention. I looked through a window and spotted Chase down by the horse fencing, about to embark on a path to my neighbors’.

I ran outside calling, and here hurried Mitzvah followed by Chase. I put them into the house before going outside and looking for the escape spot. There it was–Chase’s new hole under the fence–right beside his first dig the previous day. The initial hole was blocked against more digging. I hoped it might end his digging.

I have learned from experience that Chase doesn’t give up. He teaches that neither can I.

For another couple of hours with some rest breaks, I lugged lava rocks to the fence line and set them into a row along its bottom. They’re on its outside to block Chase’s all-too-easy unders, ups, and outs.

If heavy lava rocks can’t prevent escapes, I’ll dig a trench and lower the rocks into it–or will fill the trench with concrete. Weeks earlier, I had sturdied my horse fencing by learning to set posts. That process taught me the basics of mixing and pouring concrete–experience transferable to other fencing.

Dear Friends: Unending creativity, to control Chase and ensure his safety. Diana